The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-08-27
THE GREAT DETECTIVE ACT,
Peck's Sun.

is, We never sleep," and who have read other detective literature, which is so freely given to newspapers if it advertises the sharpness of the detec- tive force, are having great lau Il at the detectives of a portion of the con- tinent who so ably allowed Mr. Me- Garigle to escape. There were prob- ably ten thousand men on the lookout for the so called boodler There were more clues than anybody ever heard of before. Every man had clue. Everywhere detectives were on the run, with precipitation starting down their faces, and they advertised that they were detectives. The old theory that detective must be n "Hawkshaw" with slouch hat, with eyes looking out f.om under the brim, away around at the back of his neck, with false beard, and disguised entirely, is outlawed, and detectives appear like other men, mingle with the people, unknown as ito their business. That is the way detectives have been doing business late years.
 But on this occasion, when McGar- igle was wanted, all the detective agencies in the country went in for a scoop on the other agencies, and the agencies wanted to beat the regular Chicago police detectives. Besides this, all sheritfs and deputies, and con- stables, and marshals, and coroners, and aldermen, and bridge tenders, and smart Alicks all over the country, had it in for Me, and were looking for him. Many pious young man with dark, dropping moustache, and a bald head, belonging to the Y. NJ. c. A., all over the land, has been shad- owed by amateur Pinkertons, hun dreds have been arrested on suspicion of being the escaped Chicago boodler, only to be released on showing straw berry mark on the arm or elsewhere. The whole country, from Lake Super for to the Gulf, and from Maine to California, was on the watch for Nc. Then, by accident, it was learned that he was on the schooner Blake, bound through the straits to Canada, and the detective talent of the continent was concentrated where he must pass within hailing distance of them. It seemed sure thing that the little man could not get through that line of lynX-eyed Alexanders, and his friends gave him up for lost. Armed with tugs, and all conceivable floating craft, the Blake must necessarily be surrounded and there could not be a place on board of her. capable of con cealing a human being, that would not be searched. There were hand . cuffs enough i'll the crowd to have hand-cufied an army, and warrants enough to have papered an exposition building. There they were, on the watch, like thousand cats watching mouse-hole where poor little mouse had to come out in spite of himself. The eyes of the world were upon the Straits, where the ablest de- tectives of the world were in force sufficient to Fenianize Canada, and each day the papers said that only a few hours could elapse before the hero of the bath-tub and the poodle, would be in the hands of the law he had out ragged by asking for permission to take a bath. And what was the matter that he should have escaped and how could he have got through that barbed wire fence of human beings, bristling with handcuffs and detective stars? It was the old story. The detectives fell. They had watched night and day, on their various craft, and they were tired and hungry. They saw a schooner loading cedar ties at land- ing, and run alongside, and the detect ives were invited on board by the rough old sailor in charge, who said he had seen the Blake. and that she would show up before long. He said they would have no difficulty in se- curing the boodler. The worn and weary detectives went aboard the schooner Marsh, to stretch their legs, after which they were invited into the cabin by the innocent old salt in charge of the vessel. Having dis tinguished party on board, including many newspaper reporters, as we'll as world-renowed detectives, the captain could not do less than open bottle of cherry brandy. It was the first chance the watchers had had of taking drink since they went to sea, and they took big drinks. The captain, good soul, opened other bottles, and when he would go on deck to super intend the loading of ties, the guests would laugh at his guileless innocence in opening up his red liquor tor them. While the old captain was on deck, watching the Blake pass him towards Canada, with Nc on board, the detectives were down in the cabin of the Marsh, drinking the captains cherry bounce, laughing at him for . sucker, and telling each other how they would swoop down on the Blake like flock of blackbirds, and eat Mo alive. Those who have indulged in